


Try for More

by youmakemesoangry



Series: Make Your Mark [3]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Fake AH Crew, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-07 23:23:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6829585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youmakemesoangry/pseuds/youmakemesoangry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But, how did they get together?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Try for More

He learns, through the great criminal grapevine, that there is a driver. There is a driver that is capable of driving _any_ vehicle. 

He asks Gavin to find this guy and is faced with an epically indignant pout from Gavin for not considering him as the driver.

Geoff just raises an eyebrow in a way that is meant to convey ‘you can drive when you learn how not to destroy every vehicle you come within six feet of’ through interpretive movement. Gavin sets out to hack through government records and police records and-

“What do you mean, ‘nothing’?” If Geoff is screeching slightly it’s only because he needs to get this guy before someone else does. A good driver is hard to find and all that. 

“I mean that there is nothing on him, Geoffrey. He, according to all different types of government agencies, does not exist.” Geoff clenches his fist for a moment, punches the counter lightly, and sighs.

“He’s good, then.” Gavin nods in reply, looking back at his computer setup and typing something.

“He has no police record anywhere. Not in Los Santos, not in _all_ of San Andreas. If he has a birth certificate in the United States, I sure as shit can’t find it.” Gavin is mumbling to himself towards the end. Geoff braces his hands against the granite counter and hangs his head. 

Then he remembers a flash of red hair and clenched fists at a meeting with a low-level mob boss. He remembers the way the boss had thrown the red head a pair of keys. He remembers a quick reaction time to catching the keys despite the fact that the redhead wasn’t even looking at the boss.  
   
He remembers that the red head wasn’t a _he_ at all.

“Jackie.” Gavin pauses his typing and raises an eyebrow but doesn’t look away from the screen. 

“I’m sorry? You coming up with nicknames for him now?” Geoff shakes his head and stands up straight.

“No. Look up all different versions of the female versions of Jack. Jacklyn, Jackie, fucking _Jacoba_ , I don’t care. Find her.” Gavin stares at him before nodding, and Geoff walks out of the room, heading for his office.

It’s twenty minutes, two glasses of whiskey, and a fight with his accountant later when Gavin walks back in with a file in his hand. Geoff puts down the glass he’s holding and sits up in his chair.

“Jacqueline Pattillo,” Gavin says in a perfect French accent and Geoff is struck again about how good Gavin is at his job. “Born January 3, 1982, to French and Scottish immigrants. She has a sealed juvie file that has recently become unsealed that details her eventful night of carjacking, joyriding, and the destruction of private property. After the age of 18, however, there is nothing. She seemingly fell off the face of the earth.” Geoff steeples his fingers in front of his face and thinks over this information.

“Find her.” Gavin raises his eyebrows but doesn’t look particularly surprised.

“How are you sure it’s her? I just listed the criminal record of most of the teens in Los Santos. I listed _your_ juvie record, for christ’s sake.” Geoff stands up and walks around his desk.

“My juvie record had a few more murders than most,” Geoff mumbles and reaches for the file in Gavin’s hand. He flips it open and looks at the mug shot of a teenage girl with long hair and a grin that pulls the split in her lip. She’s younger and wilder, and yet. “That’s her.” He hands the file back to Gavin. “Find her.” 

Gavin pauses, but nods. He walks out of the room, and Geoff picks up his phone. Time to argue with someone about something again.

 

There’s a knock on the penthouse door two days later. Gavin is working to find Pattillo on and off between hacking into different banks and helping Geoff get passed the security system of a jewelry store he robs out of boredom. 

Geoff looks at Gavin and Gavin looks at him. Well, neither one of them is expecting anyone. Gavin grabs his pistol from the back of his pants and Geoff unhooks the shotgun from under the table by the front door. 

Geoff looks through the peephole to see only motorcycle helmet. It doesn’t comfort him.

“Mr. Ramsey?” His finger tightens on the trigger and he presses the barrels against the door. “I’ve noticed that you’ve been looking for me.” Geoff turns around and looks at Gavin, who is ten feet behind him with his pistol pointed down in front of him. He looks just as confused as Geoff feels. “You can stop point the gun at me through the door.”

“Well if you don’t mind, ma’am, I’d rather not.” The helmet cocks to the side and seems to shake from side to side.

“Well, _sir_ , if you want your new driver intact, you’ll quit aiming a gun at her.” Geoff unlocks the door, ignoring Gavin’s harsh whisper of ‘Geoff!’, and backs away. He’s not an idiot, however, and keeps the shotgun aimed at the leather jacket that walks through the doorway. Two gloved hands raise in the air as she walks further into the penthouse. 

Geoff and Gavin back up, both their guns aimed at the woman’s chest as she makes her way towards the living room. She stops near the couch and leans her ass against it.

“I’m going to take my helmet off now, okay?” Her gloved hands move slowly towards her helmet, and she unbuckles it with a click. 

Geoff sees a flash of red hair and lowers his gun. He sees Gavin glance at him out of the corner of his eye, but ignores him. Geoff walks forward with his hand outstretched.

“Jack Pattillo, I presume.” Gavin snorts from behind him. “It’s nice to meet the best driver in Los Santos.” Jack takes his hand in a firm, leather clad grip and Geoff likes the look of things. A firm handshake tells a lot about a person. Especially a woman who is covered from head to toe in black leather, and is taller than he is. 

“Mr. Ramsey. It’s nice to finally meet the rising star of the crime world.” She smirks slightly, and her shoulder length hair shakes with their handshake. She looks down at her hand and Geoff realizes that he has been shaking it for about ten seconds too long. He quickly let’s go and curses at himself internally.

It’s not his fault he has a thing for women who could kill him and enjoy it.

“Well. We were hoping to discuss calling you in for certain heists, so we can talk about-“

“I want to join your crew.” She looks at Gavin behind him for a moment before looking back at him. She only looks slightly unsure about her statement.

“Uh, well. Ya see. Um.”

“What Geoff is going to say is that this is our crew. You’re looking at it. _All_ of it.” Jack looks at Gavin and her eyebrows scrunch a little.

“I know that. I’ve been watching you guys. I’ve been wanting to join your crew since you talked you way into a deal with Salerd that got you more guns, ammo, and territory than $10,000 is worth.” Jack’s face hadn’t shown emotion back then, but here in front of him, she seems to be vaguely impressed. 

Geoff walks over to the kitchen counter, puts down the shotgun, and walks back again. Gavin tucks his pistol away, and Jack is holding her helmet by the chinstraps, everyone far more relaxed than they were before.

“So. I doubt you have a resume.” Jack shrugs, smirking slightly.

“I’ve always found that actions speak louder than words,” Geoff smirks, and motions for Jack to lead the way out the door. 

He listens to Gavin ask Jack questions about bikes as the elevator takes them to the garage and he feels his shoulders relax more than they have in years.

Maybe having a crew won’t be the _worst_ thing ever.


End file.
